


Stand For Me

by ShadowsofGray



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowsofGray/pseuds/ShadowsofGray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's senior prom, and Santana is having a night to remember, though it's not until Quinn stands up in front of her for the first time since she was put in a wheelchair that Santana's night really begins. Hidden feelings come out, and Quinntana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stand For Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in Prom-asaurus, though is slightly AU where Brittana is concerned. They're just best friends here.
> 
> Pairing: Quinn/Santana
> 
> Spoilers: Prom-asaurus, and backwards.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own glee, or glee's beautiful, crazy characters, though this story is mine, even if it is just a silly one-shot. Enjoy? :D

Heart stuttering inside my chest, my voice falters; Quinn is standing. My first reaction is to reach over and wrap an arm around her waist for support. I do this gently, not wanting to jar her in case she tips over, and then when I feel that the hold is secure enough, I can't stop myself from staring at Quinn in awe. And… maybe with a little something else, too, something akin to sex eyes, because Quinn is on her own two feet after weeks of physical therapy, and I have never been as proud of her as I am at this very moment. Quinn eyes me back for a few brief seconds, but I know that she is only silently thanking me, not eye-fucking me like I am most definitely doing to her. We both look away to finish the song, which is exactly when I realize how it couldn't be any more accurate, Quinn Fabray literally just took my breath away.

If the crowd's response is anything to go by, I am not the only one; the rest of our group is in shock as well. I'm pretty sure that I can even see tears glistening in Rachel's eyes, and even surer that I can feel them springing up to my own. Brittany's mouth is dropped open, her beautiful eyes blinking rapidly, Mercedes has a hand planted on her chest, as if she can't believe what she is seeing, and Finn, well, he doesn't look remotely happy, especially when Rachel moves away from him in a dazed stupor. I feel exactly how Rachel looks. Astonished. I gaze at Quinn again, not able to shake the pride and excitement buzzing within me. She chose this moment, right here with me, to stand for the first time in front of us all. I needs pictures, because this, Quinn and me, are being framed and set up on my nightstand.

I will forever remember this night as one of the best nights of my life.

As soon as the song is over, I distractedly shove the mic in some girl's hands, while Quinn eases back into her wheelchair. Mike and Sam, being the two strongest manly men in our group, hauls Quinn back down the stage, and onto flat ground, where nearly everyone crowds around her. Frozen in place, and with my heart thud thud thudding rapidly inside my chest, I continue to watch them hug and congratulate her. I have so many feelings welling up that I don't exactly know which to focus on, but when searching hazel eyes lock onto my own, a surge of relief hits me head on.

Pure, unadulterated relief and exhilaration.

I'll admit that I was hella worried, well; terrified that Q would never walk again, but not once was I resigned to that fate.

I knew with all that she has already been through that she would never be confined to a wheelchair forever. Now that I have seen with my own two eyes that she can walk again, I have the all-consuming urge to show her what her strength and positive attitude during the most trying time of her life has done to me.

What _she_ has done to me.

Brittany bounds up to me with twinkling eyes and a rainbow bright smile plastered on her face. I hold my arms out for her, and she practically slams into me in excitement, obviously on a more noticeable high than me. Mine is an inner high, a euphoria sweeping my insides and _almost_ bursting out the seams, whereas Brittany's is all sprightliness and zest.

"Come on, S; let's go get our pictures taken!" Brittany virtually squeals out, dragging me off the stage and to the line for prom pictures.

She bounces in our spot, giddy, and it causes the smile on my face to grow and reach my eyes. I probably look like an idiot, but who the hell cares; this is our fuckin' senior prom, and my girl Quinn can walk again. Life is good, I could not ask for anything more at this very moment, okay, well, maybe one thing… A kiss.

Hell, I'm ready to get my mack on right this second, but I need Quinn for that, she is the one who I want to lay one on. Right after pictures, that is what I am going to do, my heart - and libido - is set on wooing Fabray to her feet and into my lips. I wanted to take advantage of our alone time when we were counting votes, I had the opportunity to tell her how I feel, to show her how I feel, but I was scared. I was afraid of rejection, a slap to the face, a resulting argument on how just days before I said that I didn't trust her, and or a 'so where in the hell did these feelings come from and why now?'

I was afraid of taking _advantage._

She has been through so damn much all four years of high school, one thing after another, and the wreck was the last straw, it both causing me to feel defeated in never getting a chance for that perfect moment, and to feel if I did confess that it wouldn’t be fair. She always has a bunch of shit on her plate, and me telling her that I am in love with her, well, she didn't need that, too. But, now, witnessing again how strong she is, inside and out, has set a fire under my ass and a new determination in my heart, and I just don't see there being a more perfect time for me to lay myself bare.

Britt and me get on the big, green dino and strike a silly pose for the camera, with genuine happy go lucky smiles stretching our faces wide. Afterwards, she crushes me in another hug before practically skipping off to go find Rachel. She wants to steal her away from Finn to get the first picture with this year’s prom Queen. With what Quinn and me did for the munchkin, I think we should be getting first pictures with her, but my only goal right now is Quinn herself, I need to find her before all my pumped up courage slithers away into nothing. I'll be damned if I let that happen, again, like so many times in the past million years.

I move, walking away with purpose in every step, as my eyes dart around the room for the gorgeous girl in the wheelchair.

When I don't see her anywhere, my brows furrow, and my lips drop into a pout.

_Where could she have gone? She better not have left._

Striding throughout the room in slight panic, I collide with a body, knocking them back and off balance. Reaching out instinctively, I steady them, no, not them, Rachel, who looks a little jostled, but none the worse for wear; I grin sheepishly at her. "Sorry, Rach, I'm looking for Quinn, have you seen her?"

"It's fine, I could've been run over by worse things than Santana Lopez's body." She quips playfully, winking.

I blink, taken a little off guard by her flirty attitude.

"Um, anyway, I shooed most of the crowd away from Quinn a little while ago, as she seemed a bit overwhelmed by the attention. I'm assuming she went to the restroom for some space." Taking my silence as offence, she clears her throat, shifts, and awkwardly answers my question.

"Thanks. See you around, Berry." Nodding at her, I turn, preparing to broaden my search. "Oh, Britt was lookin' for you." I throw over my shoulder.

"Really?" She sounds surprised, confused.

"Said she wanted to be your first." I shrug out vaguely with a wink, getting her back for earlier.

As she stares at me, head quirked to the side, her deeply thoughtful expression turns to one of slack jawed, dumbfounding bewilderment.

"First? My first wh-hey, Santana, wait! My first what?!" I ignore Rachel's very loud, baffled questioning, sauntering off instead as Brittany attacks her in a bear hug from behind.

Rachel squeaking in surprise is the last thing I hear before the gym doors close behind me.

The hallway is nearly empty, with only two other seniors using the more quiet space to get some alone time; they're leaning against the wall and sucking major face. On any other day, I would scoff and roll my eyes, while telling them to get a room, but tonight, I can't blame them. Prom usually does bring out the hornies, the guys wanting to get in their girlfriend's pants for the first time, and the virgin girls wanting to give it up to their boyfriends on one of the most magical nights of their high school career. I myself wouldn't mind an encounter with Quinn leading to the deflowering of her first girl on girl experience, especially tonight; however, that is not my intention. Right now, I just want to show her how much she means to me with the simple, yet intimate caress of lips on lips.

The bathroom appears deserted, and after checking all the stalls, it only confirms the realization that Quinn really may have bolted. Unless… I bet she wanted to be somewhere that could afford her the space she needed, somewhere a public bathroom does not exactly offer. The choir room. I send out a hopeful prayer that I am right, and hurry back out the room; heels loudly click clacking against the floor in my haste to get to Quinn as fast as possible. To get to her before she does leave. I know the school year isn't over yet, but I am bound and determined to kiss the hell out of her _tonight._

Consequences be damned.

Immediately, I can tell that the light is definitely on inside the room, which has me peeking in the little window to make sure that Quinn is in there and not one of the teachers, or Brad.

I don't see her right off, which means she either isn't in there, or is hidden out of eyesight. Not wanting to wait another lost second that I could have been spending with her, I turn the knob, open the door, and enter the room, letting the door close silently behind me. My eyes quickly scan over the small room, not stopping until they're landing on the back of Quinn's noggin; her head is tilted, the end of her hair brushing delicately at the bottom of her neck. As she sits in the once metal entrapment, she appears to be staring at the case of trophies lining the wall.

I have to wonder if her mind is on nationals.

"We're going to win nationals this year, I can feel it, and in just week’s time, our first place trophy will be sitting here where it belongs." I startle at Quinn's voice, not having expected her to speak, seeing as I was not aware that she even knew I walked in and started watching her. Maybe she felt my eyes burning a hole in her skin, where I was most definitely intensely focused.

It takes a few moments for what she said to register, but when it does, I find myself nodding, agreeing with her whole-heartedly,

"You're right; we've got this in the bag, just as long as Finntard keeps his blubbering mouth away from Berry's."

I walk up behind her, fingers itching to brush over her exposed neck, instead, I linger there, unsure of what to say or do.

"Rachel may have taken him back, but you know she hated that he did that as much as the rest of us." She chuckles; shaking her head and making the loose strand flutter along.

She's right; Rachel was fuming, well, underneath the fear of me going all Lima Heights on her ass anyway… Of course, at the time, I didn't realize that Rachel was practically an innocent bystander in the cause of our disappointing loss at nationals; she did after all appear to be enjoying the kiss. Apparently, though, she was acting her ass off because it would have been even worse if she had jerked away from him, and worse is not something that we needed when we were already past bad. I am still pissed that the kiss ever happened.

 But, now I am just pissed at Finn for putting Rachel in that position.

"Santana?" I blink, shaking away those thoughts; I have better things to be thinking of. "Still angry about that, huh?"

"Meh, I have rage, but not at Rachel." I shrug, stepping closer, close enough for her to feel my body heat.

"Good. She has had enough of our rage over the years to last a lifetime." Her voice is quiet, faltering as if she is about to cry.

My heart lurches at the thought.

"She has." I agree, letting myself take hold of the dangling lock to twirl it around my fingertips.

"You can walk." I whisper when she doesn't respond to my touch, needing to talk, and needing her to know how this new development is making me feel.

I can't resist placing my free hand on her shoulder, also needing to feel any bare skin incase I don't ever get the chance again.

"Yes. Not very well yet, my legs are still-"

"Quinn, you can fucking _walk_ , Jesus, you just, you don't know how- Q, I have been waiting for this moment for ages, I mean, any longer and I was gonna crash therapy with Coach's megaphone. That would have gotten your legs going for sure, cause you know you would have been wanting to get up to bitch slap my ass." Her words are cut off mid-sentence as my excitement and relief spews forth in a playful quip, and I have to chuckle at myself as the whole scene plays out in my head. 

Quinn's shoulder tenses under my light grasp, though, in fact, her whole body goes rigid, and then she is shifting away from my hand.

I curse silently; things were going too well, I should have known that I would screw up eventually.

"Quinn-"

"You weren't there, I needed my best friend, and you were not there for me. Joe, someone that I barely know, offered to go with me to my therapy sessions, but my best friend of over ten years did not once ask if I needed any type of help. Hell, ever since the first few visits in the hospital, you have been practically avoiding me. Why, Santana? Tell me where my best friend was when I needed her the most." She whirls around halfway through talking, catching me off guard, and having already been mentally kicking myself in the ass for the truth in her words, her expression only makes it all the more painful.

"I, I-I'm sorry." My face contorts as the apology slips past my lips; the guilt is tearing a hole through my heart.

"You don't even have any excuses, do you? You just didn't want to have to deal with me; you didn't want the responsibility of-"

"No! That's not; it's not like that at all, Quinn." I vehemently deny what she is accusing me of, now riled up and angry.

Angry at myself. I should have never let those things get inside her head.

"Then tell me what it _is_ like, Santana, because I needed _you,_ not some sophomore boy who's in puppy love with me."  Her pointer finger jabs in my direction as she raises her voice, and if I didn't know any better, I would say that her finger is poking right through my heart, ripping at the wound already there.

I know that is not possible, but it sure as hell feels like it, my damn chest hurts.

It is _aching._

"You're right, I should have been there, I should have been with you when you were released from the hospital, I should have been there taking care of you every possible day after that, and I should have went to every single therapy session. But, I wasn’t, and I didn’t, and now I can’t take any of it back. I can only tell you that I am here now, and that for me to leave, someone would have to rip my cold, dead body from your side." My feet have carried me back over to her during my response, and by the time I am done speaking, my hands are clenched around the arms of her chair.

My face is within inches of her own.

"Santana-"

"I'm sorry, I am so fuckin' sorry that I ever thought it was a good plan to keep myself away from you. Do you know how much it tore me inside out that my best friend was in a life-threatening car wreck, or how much it both physically and mentally hurt me that there was a high chance that my best friend could never walk again?" Not letting her say anything, I continue, voice and words deep with unleashed emotion. I need to get everything out before I lose it in a more dangerous and unhealthy way.

"I-"

"I couldn't deal, Quinn, and yeah, I should have worked past my own turmoil because you were the one hurting and struggling, but I was hurting, too, and I Just. Couldn't. Deal. I wasn't strong enough to force myself past my own problems to help you, and for that, I cannot forgive myself. What kind of friend puts her own pain before her best friend's own?" I ignore her attempt at speaking again, pushing forward and blurting every last feeling out of my mouth so that she can understand how profoundly her ordeal has affected me.

Because it has, her being in a wreck that could have been fatal rocked me to my core, and I have yet to stop trembling from the sheer force of it all. What ifs flew through my head non-stop. What if I had offered her a ride, what if I had called her instead of Rachel continuously texting her, and the biggest of all, what if Rachel and Finn were not getting married that day?

Or, at all for that matter.

Quinn would have never gotten in that car because she wouldn't have had to, but it is pointless thinking on all of that, nothing can ever be changed.

"Oh." She breathes out a surprised response, obviously affected by everything I said, and leans back away from my face.

"Oh? Is that all you could come up with, princess?" I laugh ruefully, afraid that she doesn't care and that she will not give me a chance to make up for anything.

"Honestly? I really don't know what to say." She chuckles awkwardly, head shaking again as her hands come to lie dangerously close to my own.

"Tell me how you feel. Tell me that what I said doesn't matter and I should just forget about it; tell me that you will never ever forgive me. Tell me that you never want to see me again." I straighten up, putting some much needed distance between us. The last thing I need to do right now is touch her.

This is a too fragile situation and I would hate to do something I should not, something that would ruin any chances of forgiveness.

"I can't because then it would all be a lie." The words tumble smoothly out of her mouth in a whisper.

There was no hesitation whatsoever, and that coupled by what she admitted has my heart lifting in hope.

"We've been through a lot, you and me. The ups and downs, fighting one week and then uniting for something we both love the next. It's been like that for years, and not even to this day do I know where we stand, I have no idea if we're even friends anymore, or if we're mere frenemies." The honesty in which she speaks hurts, because I know that she is right.

How is she to know that all I have done to her was because of my stupid crush, and my inner demons because of said crush? How is she to know, by the way I have given her mixed signals, that all I wanted to do was spill everything, apologize for being a coward, and then take her right up against the lockers? She couldn't have known.

She doesn't know.

"I didn't stand up on the stage because I knew everyone would be watching. I stood up because in that moment, with you and me singing together like we were best friends again, I felt empowered. I was feeding off your energy, and it felt good, so damn good that it gave me the strength to stand. I stood up for myself, but I also stood up for you. As you held me up, I promised myself right then and there that I was getting to the nitty gritty bottom of our strained relationship, and then I promised myself that I was going to fix it. So, no, I will not tell you any of what you suggested to me." I am drawn back over to her as she speaks; her tone is less of a whisper, and more of a determined, confident edge. That edge has me pressed against the front of the wheelchair.

That edge has me practically leering down at her.

"In fact, if you were to walk out that door right now, I would follow you, on foot, until I got your attention. Or until I collapse and you end up having to help me. Whichever comes first." Not so light humor replaces the seriousness in what she said last, I roll my eyes at her, but the image of her collapsing isn't funny in the slightest.

I take a deep breath, the tension is still thick around us, and if I don’t find something perfect to reply with, well, I might just have to bolt before I suffocate in here.

_Right, bolt, ha! Whom am I kidding, I could not leave her now even if I wanted to; my feet are glued to the floor._

My body knows what it wants, and it knows if I bolt that I would not be getting it.

I am getting it, even if it is the last thing I ever do.

"Q, I want you to stand up." My eyes are locked on hers as I make my request, hoping beyond hope that she complies.

"Huh?" She blinks up at me, seemingly stumped, and obviously confused.

I grin, step back some, and hold my hands out for her to take. "You said you stood up for me on stage, I want you to do it again."

"Santana, I-"

"I don't want any I cant’s or I don’t think I cans. Just do it. I'll hold you up." I lift my hand, almost shoving my palm in her face to stop her from protesting.

She blinks, once, twice, and again before clicking her mouth shut. I offer her my hands once more, and then I watch as she slowly sets one of her own on one of mine. The simple touch, as light as it is, spreads tingles up my arm, and then down my chest, setting a spark off in my heart. Her other one follows suit, this time more quickly, as if she is more assured that this is an okay idea. As if she _trusts_ me. The light touch becomes stronger as she prepares to lift herself up and out of the wheelchair, which is what happens a few seconds later. I let her cling to me with as much pressure as she needs, until she is standing in front of me with wobbly legs and an accomplished smile curving her lips up. I can't help but smile along; Quinn's smile is more contagious than a yawn.

She removes a hand from mine, places it on my shoulder, and then does the same with the other. My arms snake around her waist, the more secure she feels, the better this will go, and I plan on it going very, very well. Of course, plans do not always turn out how you want them to, and I am not stupid as to believe that what I am about to do could not have a severe backlash.

"Why aren't you with Britt?" Quinn breaks the slightly awkward silence, shifting again, and my breath catches as her body practically fuses with mine.

"B-Because I'm here with you." I stutter close to her ear as my fingers start to dig into her lower back.

"Why? You should be in there having the time of your life." I rapidly shake my head in response; this is where I want to be.

"I'm fine right where I am, Q, besides, I'm sure B is occupying her time by trying to keep Rachel's attention on her and not on Finn." I shakily reply, and try to divert to a different topic, becoming nervous of where our conversation is headed. Where we are headed.

Nothing there could be better than here in this moment, or the moment on stage where I got to see my best friend stand up for the first time in forever. I'm ready, so fucking past ready to reveal everything, but I am also scared shitless. This could go so, so very wrong, and I don't think anyone could really blame me, not for what is at risk.

"So, you were serious about someone having to rip your cold, dead body from my side, then?" She retorts, laughing in my hair, and I feel her breath puff out over my head.

"Deadly serious." I quip, though cannot find it in me to laugh this time.

My stomach is twisted in knots.

Quinn doesn't laugh either, but I can feel her grin, and I can definitely feel her press firmly against me. “Should I get some super glue?”

"N-No, not needed. We're linked by an invisible bungee cord." I stutter yet again, her body is melting my brain, and apparently my badassness right along with it.

_Jeez, Lopez, could you have sounded anymore cheesy and confusing?_

"Invisible bungee cord?" Quinn is no less than baffled, I can practically hear the gears turning in her head as she tries to make sense of what I said.

"Yeah, you know a cord that can stretch and stretch to hold something in place but can only go so far before springing back." I shrug out my explanation, embarrassed, yet kinda proud of myself for coming up with some stupid analogy for our friendship.

Her shoulders start to shake, and I once again roll my eyes at her, she is one second away from laughing at me.

"So, what you're saying is that we stretch each other to the max, and then when we can't handle anymore, we spring back together?" I huff as she teases me while trying to suppress her laughter, I already feel stupid for saying something like that as it is, and now she's gotta rub it in by making fun of me.

_Bitch._

"Whatever, I know it's dumb, but that's what happens when you're this close to me. I become-" Eyes going insanely wide at my slip up, I immediately cut myself off.

My brain did not warn me that I was going to start confessing feelings, I was waiting for the right moment, and I didn’t think this _was_ that moment.

Apparently, I was wrong.

"What?" Her body is tense again as she pulls back to look at my blushing face.

I stare off to the side of her, heart pounding in fear, and my head frantically shaking in the negative.

"You become what, Santana?"

"Brittany, come on now, I need to get back to Finn, we haven't even gotten our prom pictures taken yet!" Rachel's shrilly voice interrupts anything I could have said.

I turn my head, only to see Brittany's head popping into the room, and then the rest of her body as she drags a not so willing Rachel along with her.

"Q, you're standing again!" Brittany skips over; hand still clasped tightly around Rachel's, which makes for an interesting scene.

Rachel blinks at us, and then stares for several long seconds. "Oh."

Oh? What does that mean?

"Brittany, I think we should go somewhere else, it seems Quinn and Santana were having a private moment." _Oh._ She knows, Rachel knows and is apparently okay with it.

Her knowing smile tells me exactly that.

"No, it's all right; I need to sit back down anyway." Quinn mummers, shrugging as if she doesn't care.

I frown, and then pout. I care; I care a hell of a lot. She may be telling the truth, though, so I reluctantly help a quiet Quinn back in her chair. Britt and Rachel may have ruined our moment, but I refuse for the night to end, I still have a goal to fulfill, and I plan to do just that tonight.

"Take a picture with me." I pin Quinn down with my eyes, begging her with them to say yes.

"I'm not really in the mood for pictures." That is not a yes that is a cop out.

I glare at her while pleading simultaneously. "You said I should be in there having the time of my life, so get your ass in there and help me out."

"You should, Q, it's fun." Brittany encourages Quinn with a broad smile, and Rachel tilts her head to beam at Brittany, while squeezing the hand laced with her own.

Quinn heaves a sigh. "Fine."

We all follow her movement with our eyes as she rolls away from us and toward the door, and I stand here, still glued to the spot. Getting a picture done with Quinn makes my heart flutter, I'm imagining now what poses we could do, and thinking of them, each one turning out more risqué than the last, has my mind flying straight into the gutter.

"Well, are you coming?" Quinn startles me out of my naughty thoughts, and I shake my head to clear it.

"Not yet."

_Gah, I did not mean to say that!_

"Uh, excu-"

"I mean yeah, yeah, I'm right behind you." I add quickly before she can finish, and power walk over to where she is idling; her eyebrow rises in question.

I ignore it, walking swiftly past her to hurry back into the gym. My mind does not let me forget that she is hot on my tail, but I ignore that as well, not wanting to answer the question that her sexy as fuck eyebrow was asking. Right now, I just want to get in there to get our picture done, get out, and whisk her away outside to my car, where we can be totally alone. Maybe then, I will answer anything she has to ask. Well, that is if I even give her a chance to say one single word. If I had my way, my lips would be on hers as soon as both car doors closed.

The room stills as we make our entrance, all eyes falling on Quinn, and I fix my face into a 'back the hell off' glare, scaring everyone enough for them to continue partying. Satisfied, I lead Quinn to where the photos are being taken, there is one couple waiting in line. I let Quinn roll in front of me, and then stand guard behind her, some eyes are still landing on her, but a well-placed scowl has them darting away. I sigh, tired, and ready to blow this joint. As soon as we are done here that is for sure what I will be doing.

I just need to convince Quinn to tag along.

I move to Quinn's side, peering down at her. "Hey."

"Hi." A timid smile graces her lips as she meets my gaze.

Gorgeous is the only word that I can come up with to describe her, although even that does not say it all.

"You really do look beautiful tonight, Santana." My jaw drops; I would have never expected the words beautiful and Santana to come out of her mouth in the same sentence.

How is it even possible that we were thinking the same thing about each other? Does she think of me often? Or, just tonight?

"O-Only tonight?" I attempt to joke, wanting to gauge how serious she is being, though my voice coming out in a crack was not supposed to happen.

"Your turn." The woman of the couple before us lets us know as they walk away, effectively hindering a response from Quinn.

Seems being interrupted is now making a reoccurring appearance.

I step out the way so Quinn can wheel over, and then join her by the dinosaur. "Think you can stand for me one more time?"

Quinn whips her head around to look at me. "I shouldn't get on that thing."

"No, come here." For the third time tonight, I hold out my hands for her to take, she glances at them and then back to my face, again questioning me.

"Just do it." I wiggle my fingers, trying to entice her up, she just grins and chuckles at my expense.

Her hands slowly slide in mine, and instead of the spark in my heart that I felt the first time, I feel a whole damn electrical current.

It is easier this time because she knows how much weight to use and how strong I am to hold it, which sort of makes me kinda giddy or some shit. I ask the photo dude to move the chair out of our way, and while he obeys, I walk Quinn closer to the dino, and then ease her hands around his neck. She seems unsure, but with a nod from me, she holds her body against him. I don't let go until I know for sure that she won't buckle, and then I go around to the dino's side and carefully hop on, making sure my movements don't knock Quinn off balance. When we're both ready, I cue photo dude to take our picture, though instead of looking towards the camera, Quinn's eyes are on me, and for a few seconds I worry that something is wrong. When she doesn't say or do anything, however, I relax and keep our gaze steady.

A flash goes off, followed by a second, a third, and then- _oh._ I gasp as my lips meld into a softness I've never felt before, and then have to restrain a moan as that same softness presses curiously against them. Another gasp, this one from Quinn, before the gentle pressure is ripped away. I whimper at the loss, nowhere near ready to stop kissing the lips of the woman I have been longing for, for years, and then my eyes snap open in shock. I was just kissing her, Quinn and I just _kissed._ How the hell did that happen? We were meant to be getting our picture taken, hell, that is what we were doing!

How did we get from that to kissing each other in five seconds?

Not that I'm complaining…

I swallow and nervously look over at Quinn, who is still standing there with her arms wrapped snugly around Mr. Dino’s neck, but now she is staring off in space. I just as carefully hop off as I did on, and hurry to Quinn's side, cautious, yet worried enough to dare touch her after having attacked her lips without permission just minutes before.

Wait, did I even kiss her first, or did she kiss me?

Meh, doesn't matter, it is over and done with, so now I desperately need to get her to my car so we can do it again.

She is way too silent as I help her back into the wheelchair; it’s as if she is in a catatonic state, I just wish I knew if this is a good or bad thing. Are my kisses that powerful? Did I break her? Great, hope she comes out of it soon, I really need to know if I am gonna be in the doghouse now. Photo dude clears his throat, gaining my attention; I only glare daggers at him, and am about to leave when I remember all those damn flashes. I leave Quinn and march over to… Jeff, his nametag reads, and then demand the roll of film from his camera.

He gapes at me as if I grew a second head. "I can't just give you my roll of film!"

"You can and you will. I don't need those pictures getting around, and I most definitely do not need them put in the year book, so hand it over before I pull out my razor blades." Anxious, I threaten him, and with good reason, we seriously don’t need pictures of Quinn and me making out to be published in our senior yearbook.

"But, that whole roll is filled!" He splutters, appalled at the idea of me taking his precious film away.

"Listen, Jeff, these pictures of us are private, I can't risk them getting into the wrong hands. Now, whether if you're those wrong hands is a huge risk I am not willing to take, so hand it over. I'll get them developed, and then give the photos back to you, deal?" I bargain with him, hoping he will see why he having those pictures is not the best idea, and wait impatiently on an answer.

Of course, I don't plan on taking anything other than a yes.

This is crazy, and is seriously interrupting my could be make-out time with Quinn; he needs to hurry the hell up.

"Well, how do I know you won't mess with-"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, give her the damn roll or so help me God I will _roll_ your ass over with this wheel chair!" Jeff and I both startle at Quinn's enraged voice.

I recover first, crossing my arms and turning my unwavering focus on Jeff, backing Quinn up without a second thought.

She's my home girl after all…

"All right, all right! Here, take it, just be careful with my camera, and don't expose the roll unless you're in a darkroom." Giving in, Jeff shoves the camera in my face; I grab it with a smirk.

"Thanks. Meet me in the parking lot tomorrow night, 7:00; I'll have the rest of the photos in a protective folder." With those last parting words, I move over to Quinn, set the camera in her lap from behind, and then grasp the wheelchair handles before she can start rolling herself out. She tries stammering out a protest, but apparently cannot find any words.

"Where are we going?" She asks quietly, finally managing to find her voice.

"Our lockers, and then to my car." Still smirking, I answer her as an idea pops up and takes over.

Stopping momentarily, I slip my heels off, and place them, too, on Quinn's lap. "Hold these for me, will ya, babe? Can't drive in those things."

"Want me to hold you in my lap, too?" Quinn scoffs, and I can just picture the accompanied eye roll.

I hesitate on the question, because yes, I do want to sit in her lap, but I also want to fly down the hallway with her.

"Next time." Hands tightening on the handles, I get into position.

"Santana?" Quinn must feel the change because she sounds wary as hell; I chuckle, and on impulse, kiss the back of her neck, right beside the fluttery strand of hair.

I roll the chair back and forth to get ready, teasing her, taunting.

She gasps, undoubtedly figuring out what I am about to do. "Santana, _no_ , don't even-Santana!'

Quinn squeals, loudly, and clenches the arms of her chair as I race down the hallway at high speed. Well, it's not as fast as I would have loved, because we are around the same weight, and I am only so strong, but it is enough for it to be fun. My feet slap hard against the cold floor as I push forward as fast as possible, it stings, going this fast, however, the miniscule pain is so damn worth it.

By the time we reach our destination, I am out of breath, and Quinn's chest is heaving. Trying to suck in air, I rest my head atop hers, she smells of cocoa butter.

"Are you sniffing me?" There goes confused Quinn again; it is adorable.

Although now that she has made me feel like a dog sniffing something he shouldn't be, I feel stupid again.

"You smell good." Damn it, so much for a denial. Oh, well. I've already kissed the girl, might as well throw in some compliments.

"Thank you, so do you, by the way." I flush, once again being stumped by one Quinn Fabray.

I haven't given out or received this many compliments ever. It feels really damn good.

_Genuine._

Thanks, Q, it's axe, what I have on." I first unlock my locker, grabbing my little purse, and then gather up Quinn's from her own.

"Come on; let's go home, I'm tired." I take the handles again, though this time I drive her around at a leisure pace.

"Whose home?" She inquires curiously, as I head down the ramp.

"Mine." I don't waste any time in giving her my answer.

She doesn't say anything, probably thinking too hard on everything that has happened tonight, including the prospect of going home with me.

"Finn, wait!" Quinn jumps at Rachel's sudden, but not surprising, loud whiny voice.

"No, Rachel, you haven't spent any time with me all night, and now we can't even get any pictures because the guy used all his film things up!" Uh oh, looks like there's trouble in paradise, and I know exactly who is to blame… Brittany. Not that I am bothered by any of this, or even blame her for nabbing Rachel the whole night.

It's actually kickass if you ask me.

"Well, it, it's Brittany's-"

"You spent the whole night with her! Every time I asked you to dance, she would glare at me and steal you away for herself! And, you know what? You didn't even try to stop her!" Angry, no, _pissed,_ Finn almost towers over Rachel in his rage, exuding the emotion out in every word.

"W-We were having fun." Rachel counters lamely, trying to defend them both.

"You could have had fun with me, too!" Finn hollers at her, getting ever closer to her scared face.

I'm about to go over there to make him back off and go home, but I spot Brittany walking over, and she doesn't look happy.

"Finn, leave her alone, you're scaring her." Brittany tugs Rachel back into her arms, instantly becoming her protector.

I narrow my eyes, Finn is red in the face and looks as if is about to blow, but he doesn't make any move to retract Rachel from Brittany's hold. Good, he better not lay one finger on her. He may not be capable of physical violence, but dude definitely has enough ire to come close to it. Take Quinn for instance, he physically tried to force her from the wheelchair, tried to make her stand up when she was not ready. That is not a good sign, it seems to me that every time something happens to him or doesn't go his way, he becomes all the more pissed off and willing to take out his anger on either chairs and or girls.

"I'm sorry for scaring you, Rachel; I'm just really upset right now." Finn's face loses most of its flush, turning back to a more normal color, as he tries to calm down.

"They're always fighting about something. Rachel really needs to sever whatever frayed link there is between them and be done with it. Be done with him." Quinn huffs and crosses her arms, more than a little annoyed by Finn and Rachel's argument.

I know how she feels.

"True dat. I'mma leave Britt to it; because right now I just want get the fuck out of here.” I turn away from the three across the street, pushing Quinn to my car.

I open the passenger door, help her out of the wheelchair, and then sit her down in my car with the camera and my heels. I shut her door, and then the next five minutes is spent trying to fold up the damn chair, though once I finally manage it, I irritably stuff it in my trunk, before getting in on the drivers side and shutting us inside.

I blow out a breath, slump back in my seat, and close my eyes, wore out.

Emotionally more than physically.

"You kissed me." Startled, my eyes snap open, and I swivel my head around.

"I, uh, are you sure you didn't kiss me?" I stammer out a reply, face heating up at the memory of her lips pressed to my own.

"No, my eyes were closed." Her answer is honest, I know this because I'm not sure either, and my eyes had been closed as well.

"Mine were too." I shrug out, shyly looking away from her intense, hazel orbs.

"Does it even matter? It happened, whether you initiated it or not. We kissed, Santana. We've never done _that_ before." Her words make me turn my head back around to look at her, she is right, it doesn't matter, we kissed and _that_ is certainly something we have never done, not even at cheer camp or at any parties while playing spin the bottle.

What I wouldn't have given to have been brave enough to kiss her in our cheer camp cabin, by the lake, or at a party.

"I do know that you leaned in first. You wanted to kiss me." She points out the obvious, but then again, me wanting to kiss her has never been obvious to _her_ before now.

It was only obvious to me.

"Yeah, I did, I wanted to kiss you." I agree with her, there is no point in lying now, that would be regressing, and I need to move forward.

"I want to kiss you again." I admit in the silence, this time not glancing away from her.

Said eyes widen in surprise, and then they dilate as they flitter over my face, eventually landing on my parted lips.

"When you stood up on stage, I wanted to kiss you then, too. Well, honestly, I wanted to do a hell of a lot more than that." I continue confessing, figuring if I plan to be real with her that I just need to lay everything out at one time, might as well just get it all over with, you know, like ripping off a band-aid.

Both of her eyebrows shoot up at that, and her eyes dart back and forth between mine, as if searching for a sign of fuckery, "Why?"

Why. There are so many answers I could give her, in fact, I'm pretty sure they could rival the length of Santa Clause's naughty or nice list.

I lean forward and seize her lips in a kiss instead. She gasps, reeling back; I only follow, never letting her part from me completely. I cup her cheek, urging her forward; her lips are hesitant at first, but then she is kissing me back, and I instantly see an atomic bomb explode behind my closed eyelids. My other hand curves around her neck, finding that damn loose strand of hair, and I can’t help but tug on it playfully. Pressing closer, she moans against my lips, and then her fingers twine deeply into my own hair. A wet tongue swipes across my bottom lip, and as I open my mouth to let her in, the tip of my tongue brushes along hers for the first time, causing a jolt of pleasure to ripple straight to my core. It makes me feel like I could come undone by just kissing her. A whimper emits from Quinn's mouth, and the fingers in my hair fist around the captured locks.

This is all I have wanted tonight, Quinn and I in a mind blowing lip lock, and I have gotten my wish, only it's ten fold, because this is beyond anything I could have ever imagined. Her Lips, as soft as down feathers, a swift, yet attentive tongue battling with my own, and eager, roaming hands-wait, roaming hands?

"Q-Quinn." I pull back with a heady groan, panting slightly, as fingertips caress down my chest.

"How long?" She breathes against my cheek, lips grazing the heated skin there.

I swallow, and then let out a shaky breath. "Too long."

"H-How long is too long?" Her voice is just as faltering as mine was, telling me that I am not that only one affected by recent…activities.

"Just, you know, only for forever." I say honestly, right through the vulnerability circling around us.

"Oh." She murmurs what is now apparently her new favorite go to word.

I snicker teasingly - apprehensively - and burrow my face in the crook of her neck, hiding because reasons. Scary reasons.

This could be where she tells me that even though she kissed back, she doesn't feel the same for me, and that it was just because we were 'in the moment'.

A sudden tap on my window has me jolting away from Quinn. I set a hand on my chest, and pierce a withering glare at the window. I should have driven away as soon as my door shut, but now it's too late, because once again, we are being interrupted, and it has me wanting to maim the person standing on the other side.

Puck. Well, at least it is someone different this time.

I grumble, not wanting to deal with anyone other than Quinn right now, dig my key out from my purse, and put it in the ignition. As the window rolls smoothly down, Puck's face pops in for a visit; I want nothing more than to slap the nuisance away. He grins at us, as his eyes drift from me to her and then back to me. I frown at him, letting the dude know that he just interrupted something.

Not that he'll know what that something is. Then again, I am sure his imagination would steer him towards the truth.

"You guys disappeared; we were worried that you left without saying goodbye.” Noticing my expression, and the tension, he pulls his head back.

"We may have forgotten to mention that we were leaving. So, goodbye, Puck. Tell the others we're headed home. Have a nice night!" By the time the last word leaves my mouth, I have the window rolled up, and my hands on the wheel, ready to peel out of here.

Shaking his head, Puck moves away from my car so that he doesn't get ran over, and then as I back up, he childishly sticks his tongue out at me. I would return the gesture, but my windows are tinted, and he wouldn't be able to see it, so I ignore him and pull the rest of the way out. I breathe a sigh of relief, no more distractions, just me, Quinn, and the open road.

"My house?" I suggest, silently praying that she says yes, and promising myself that if the answer is no, well, we're going there anyway.

"Your house." She agrees without hesitating, and I feel her hand slide along my thigh, followed by a gentle squeeze.

The rest of the ride is spent in a comfortable, anticipating silence. Twenty minutes later, I am leading her up my front steps, unfortunately; however, we do not have a wheelchair ramp. It makes me feel good that she trusts me enough to help her walk; I mean really, really damn good. Trust is what we need, and I'll do anything to keep hers.

Before I know what the hell is happening, my back hits the door with a thud, and my lips are captured. I let out an embarrassingly loud moan and waste no time in returning the kiss with fervor. Both of her hands, now free from mine cradle my face as her hips pin me to the door, and I find my own traveling down her back to her ass, rubbing over it in a burst of bravery. Hips jerking forward, she thrusts her tongue in my mouth, and immediately strokes it along the length of mine, causing a surge of wetness to ruin my panties. I love both of our dresses, but right now I wish that we didn't have any layers at all between us, especially what we have on, seeing as they aren't exactly made for heavy make out sessions. I wrap her up in a tight embrace and pull back some, just enough to attach my lips to her jaw line.

She shivers in my arms, and then her head is tilting to give me more room, in which I gladly use. I blaze a path to her pulse point, where my sweet butterfly kisses turn into gentle sucking; a gasp rushes past her lips, and her legs tremble. I hold her tighter, not wanting them to buckle out from under her, and scrape my teeth along her flesh.

"God, Santana." She whimpers, pitching forward and crushing her lips to mine.

My arousal spikes to dangerous levels. Hearing her moan and whimper is bad enough, but hearing her say my name like that?

It has me pulsing in need for her touch.

I feel her knees quiver, and know that it's unfortunately not from me. She needs to sit before I end up having to carrying her beautiful ass inside the house myself.

"We should take this inside." I whisper against her lips, not willing to separate from them just yet.

"Mmhm." She mumbles distractedly, warm breath puffing out over swollen lips. "You know…"

 I'm nodding, regrettably getting ready to move us away from the door, but her voice stops me, and I keep a snug hold on her, patiently waiting.

"In all of those ups and downs we've had, we have never been this high. I don't want to go back down, Santana." My heart simultaneously skips and breaks at her words; I don't want to go down either, hell, I'll be dammed if our relationship deteriorates from here, not after coming this far.

I'd rather stay up on our ups and downs. As cheesy and un-Santana like as it sounds, I’d also rather stay high up, where nothing or no one can touch us.

"I don't know where this is going, Q, or how you feel, but I can tell you that this bitch isn’t going anywhere. We're bungeed together, remember?" I let her know seriously but with a playful nudge, and she laughs, obviously remembering my stupid analogy of our friendship.

It may be stupid, and there may be better ways of describing us and the way we work, but that was the best I could come up with while she was melting my brain earlier.

"I do. Bungee cords will eventually spring back." She sniggers in my hair, hugging me more securely as the more than likely painful minutes pass for her.

"Right, so no matter how down we get, I will always spring back up to you. You're my girl, Quinn, I, uh, I mean you're my home girl. Or whatever." Word vomit spews out of my mouth, and a blush spreads up my neck, face, and ears. It's not the most comfortable of feelings, I feel like a fool in front of her.

"At risk of being pushed off your porch, I have to say that you are just so damn…"

"Sexy?" I peer up at her with a Cheshire grin.

"Adorable." She grins back, eyes twinkling, and my own grin turns into a glower.

"Sexy."

"And, I think we should go inside now." She purrs in my ear, desire evident in her tone.

I nod, and finally maneuver us around so I can unlock the door. My hand is so shaky that it takes Quinn covering it with her own for the key to slide home. We both step up and over the threshold, and I lead Quinn over to the couch, before coming back to close the door. I look out into the darkness, rewinding the crazy, yet awesome as fuck night in my mind. It certainly did not go exactly as I had planned, what with all the interruptions and shit, but it definitely didn't go bad either. I got my kiss, more than, and I whisked Quinn away for myself.

All in all, a damn near perfect start.

Now, I just need to go back inside to my couch where Quinn is and end the night on a _perfect_ note.

A high note. Belting from Quinn's mouth when I ravish the wild animal out of her.

The door clicks shut, and I turn on my heel, wanton need gripping me as I hurry back over to her with devious intentions.

Time to deflower Quinn of her first girl on girl experience.

 

 

 


End file.
